The Best One
by Rainosa
Summary: Post-PP, Dash goes looking for a fight, and Danny is happy to deliver, but when a ghost jumps in the mix, things spiral into something that is entirely different from what they started out with. ONESHOT


**Hello, people! I was just browsing some DP fanart when I got this crazy idea in my head and decided to just roll with it. I personally think it's one of my best pieces, but it's my first oneshot, so review me so I can tell how I actually did. For people reading my Young Justice/Generator Rex crossover, I'm sorry for not updating in a while, I just switched devices midchapter, so I'm having trouble getting access to the document. Sorry!**

**Disclaimer:I do not, and never will, own Danny Phantom or the characters affiliated with it.**

**~Rainosa**

The Best One

"Yo Phantom!" a deep voice aggressively called, echoing threateningly down the halls until every soul in the school building could undoubtedly hear it.

I closed my eyes slowly. A stranger might think it was out of dread for my confrontation with the bully. One might think that after my big revelation two weeks ago, I would beg to avoid any and all interaction with others. One might even speculate that my preferred choice of action would be to stay home and avoid my regular life for as long as possible.

And for anyone else, that would have been true.

A grin split Tucker's face, "Oh man, I wanna see this."

Onlookers flashed confused glances up and down the corridor like little groundhogs, trying to grasp what was going on, who Dash was calling to. As the big news re-entered their thought process, I watched as dozens of heads swivelled in my direction, and a chorus of anticipation quickly thickened the air. Somehow, a clear path opened up, as it always does for Dash and before another word could be said, I felt his gaze striking the back of my head.

Sam looked me in the eyes, "You ready?"

"You kidding me? I've been ready since freshman year," I laughed, choosing to ignore the quarterback down the hall.

Sam shook her head, "This is gonna be one of the worst ones..."

"That's where you're wrong, Sam," I contradicted, slowly turning to face the crowd, cracking my neck for dramatic effect.

"This is gonna be the best one."

Confidently, Dash strode past the audience, giving off the animalistic image of a rhino running down his opponent. I knew better. I didn't move from my spot, and fearlessly it seemed, watched on as Dash started ranting.

"You must think you're so tough now, _Fenton,_" he began, red-faced in anger, "You think you're all so high and mighty because you saved the world? That you, 'defeated the bad guys'? I bet you even think you deserve some kind of medal! You're such a dooshbag, Fentoenail! Oh, I'm sorry, should that be Phantoenail? It's so hard to keep up with names these days. Sometimes I need a reminder."

Dash suddenly snatched Mikey from his cowering stance on the sidelines, dangling him from his shirt collar as Mikey whimpered in fear, "Hey nerd! What's your name?"

Mikey mumbled nervously.

"I can't hear you, nerd!" Dash encouraged, shaking the smaller boy like a rag doll.

"M-M-Mi-Mikey," he stuttered in terror, shrinking at the sound of the quarterback's voice.

I sighed, "Let him go, Dash."

He ignored me, "Okay, Mikey. Now tell me, who is that?"

Dash's short, stubby finger pointed down the hall until it was roughly aimed at my face.

"D-D-Danny," Mikey muttered, quietly hoping for a rescue from his torture.

"Danny who?" Dash questioned. When Mikey didn't answer right away, Dash shook him again, "DANNY WHO?!"

"Fenton! Danny Fenton!" Mikey cried.

Dash wasn't satisfied, and slapped Mikey across the face, "DANNY WHO!?"

Mikey birst into tears, "I don't know!"

Dash kept swinging him around, waiting for his command to be followed, until finally, Mikey's face lit up in realization.

"DANNY PHANTOM!"

Lightly, Dash tossed the boy back into the crowd, "Good, nerd. Did everyone hear him? Danny Phantom. I've been whaling on Danny _Phantom _for two. Whole. Years. And not once has he ever beaten me. Not once, ever. So, now that it's out there, I'm gonna whale on him one more time, to prove to all of you dweebs that no one makes Dash Baxter look like a fool!"

I laughed, and the entire hallway whirled on me.

"You think that's funny, Fentoast?" Dash threatened, progressing further towards me.

"Nope. Sorry. Didn't mean anything by it. Go ahead," I agreed, "_Whale on me._"

Dash stepped up to me, towering like a tree over a sapling, so close that the scent of his sweat and his overburdened cologne easily invaded my senses. Sam and Tucker started to defend me, but relaxed when I stood stock still, not moving an inch under the pressure.

"I think you're nervous, dweeb," Dash hissed through his teeth, spittle flying into the space between us, "I think you're scared to fight me."

"Go get him, Danny!" someone called distantly from the corwd, their voice echoing weakly in the school hallway, quickly ignored.

"Sure, Dash," I smirked, "I'm nervous. Let's just get this overwith."

The contrast between my words and tone somehow riled up our audience, calling forth cheers and whistles as they shuffled into a fight circle. Dash backed away from me and dropped into a boxer-like stance, fists tightly clenched in front of his face, feet spread out at a roughly stable angle, bouncing from toe to toe. A showy stance, for sure. Not the most effective, but the crowd loved it, a chant of "Fight! Fight!" flowing through the hall.

There was a light tap on my shoulder, "Try not to kill him, dude. We still need a quarterback."

Tucker retreated to the edge of the circle, but Sam held back, "Promise me no ghost powers."

I chuckled, "Well he's not exactly the Fright Knight, Sam."

"Promise me," she pressed, gripping my shoulder.

"Yeah, of course. Of course I promise," I agreed, diving in for a quick kiss.

As Sam backed into the short reach of the crowd, I spun slowly to the sight of Dash's ridiculous stance. Menacingly, I took my time in exaggerating a quick stretch of the arms, shaking out my legs, and cracking each knuckle in my hands one by one. Dash smirked, but I didn't acknowledge his confidence, too busy reveling in the perfection of these moments.

"Y'know, Dash, you should really think before you do things," I warned, although it was clearly too late to back out now, "You've been whaling on this nerd for two years. And what do you think the super-powered nerd's been doing this whole time?"

I dropped into a fighting stance, "This nerd's been holding back."

He came at me like a deer, headfirst, his fists just behind him as they slowly gained momentum. His legs flailed underneath him, leaving the entire lower half of his body prone to attack. I ducked to the left, swinging my right arm into his legs just above the knee. As he fell, I pivoted on my left foot to face his fallen form, which was so pitifully sprawled across the tiled floor. Gosh, he was so slow. He was like a snail trying to get through glue. I swear he even fell slower than ghosts did.

The crowd swelled to a forte at my first move. Painfully slow, Dash managed to get his feet under him and stand shakily.

"Ya got lucky, Fenturd," Dash excused, slipping into the same ineffective stance as before. He threw a punch towards my face at snail speed, his form loose and unstable, his power mostly momentum. I swung my body right, using my left hand to redirect his strike whilst gripping his wrist. I pulled his arm outwards, doubling the force of my own punch directly between his eyes, and the audience roared, clearly rooting for the former underdog, me. As Dash recoiled, almost lazily, his knees bent out, giving me the opportunity to swipe his legs from under him. Again. He collapsed, the back of his head colliding with the tile floor in what was sure to be a painful reminder for weeks.

"I said go easy on him, Danny!" I heard Tucker cry from the sidelines, lightly enough for it to be considered joking. I laughed, and mockingly, I dropped into his boxer form, exaggerating the clu sy movements he seemed to exude.

"C'mon, Dash" I waved him towards me, beckoning, "I've been waiting years for this. I don't want it to last thirty seconds. Come at me."

Dash crawled to his hands and knees, and angrily wiped away the red blood slowly beginning to drip from his injured nose.

"C'mon, come at me."

Somehow, his feet got a grip on the tile, and he rose reluctantly to glare at me. I grinned, and tried to break his resolve.

"Come at me."

"Bro."

What could only be described as a roar exploded from Dash's mouth. Not bothering with his ridiculous boxer stand, he rushed at me in a rage, finally reaching the spped I was used to, and furiously started swinging his fists like a pro. I had enough time to gein before my brain really switched into fighting mode, simplifying my actions into one-word commands. Duck. Block. Down. Strike. Trip. Spin. Suppress urge to fire ectoblast. Leap. Dodge. Punch. Grab. Twist. Pain. I'd been punched. Recoil. Kick. Jump. Hold. Throw. I watched as Dash crashed into the hard floor belly-up, the crowd going silent as we did battle. Somehow, Dash had suddenly become good at this. What could-

Flicker.

Dash's eyes flickered. Not to an unnatural color, but back to his regular baby blue. They quickly returned to a violent red, recovering from a moment of weakness, but the damage had been done. I knew exactly what was going on.

He sprang up from his fallen state, taking a skilled fighter's best form in a fraction of a second, but I slowly slid back into a calmer mood, relaxing my stance. Dash appeared confused, along with the rest of the crowd, but I could practically feel Sam and Tucker getting suspicious behind me, and I brought up my hand to aim it's palm at Dash's chest.

"I don't know who you are, or what you're doing, but you better get out of my friend's body right now, ghost," I threatened, green ectoplasmic energy flowing to form a blast in my hand.

"What?" cried about a hundred people, still not grasping the situation. Sam and Tucker, however, sprang into action, a Fenton Wrist Ray magically appearing at Sam's arm and a Fenton Thermos showing up in Tucker's hands. The students backed away, starting to get the drift, and as the excited mood was extinguished, Dash snarled, an inhuman sound at best.

"Drat," the ghost possessing Dash swore, "I was hoping to get this kid crushed."

"Thirty seconds," I warned, putting extra energy into a super-bright ectoblast.

"C'mon, you totally wanted to destroy this guy! All that 'two years' crap I heard was perfect revenge material, wasn't it? You should've destroyed Dash, just done away with him, ruined your track record. Why don't you crush him right now? I'll make him defenseless!" the ghost in Dash begged, it's voice dripping with malice.

"I told you," I said hard-heartedly, preparing for a 'go' signal from Tucker, "He's my friend."

"Now, Danny!"

I fired my ectoblast, and the ghost was expelled from Dash's body, rising into the air above the crowd. I had barely registered Spectra's pointed face before the Wrist Ray hit her, and Tucker's blue beam had sucked her up tight in the Fenton Thermos. The school cheered, the rejoicing echoing throughout the building, and the ectoenergy dissolved as I finally relaxed. Dash collapsed in a daze, still reeling from his encounter, and several members of the football team reached out to support him. Sam and Tucker approached, concerned looks plastered over every feature, and I knew I was in for some kind of worryfest.

Begging for any kind of escape, I threw my gaze desperately around the hall, looking for something, anything, to delay the inevitable.

I locked eyes with Dash, just barely gaining a standing position, and I saw my chance, "Hey, Dash!"

Assuring his stability, Dash waved his friends away, "Yeah, Fenton?"

I walked straight to him, and away from the frantic stares of my own buddies, "I just wanted to see if you were okay. Overshadowing can take a lot out of a person."

"Oh," Dash nodded, his voice much quieter than I was used to, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Okay. Good," I acknowledged awkwardly, prolonging the conversation for as long as I could. We stood there in personal silence, the buzz of the crowd easily fading into background noise as most of them went back to their own business.

"Did you really mean that?" Dash suddenly put in, clearly having had to work up the courage to say that.

I furrowed my brow, "Mean what?"

"What younsaid back there. About me being your friend," Dash explained nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, a trait usually reserved for myself.

I was surprised, "You remember that? Most people can't remember a thing after being over-"

"Yeah, I get that," Dash interrupted, "But, I mean, you're right, I've been a jerk to you for as long as I can remember. There's no way I'm your friend, especially after what an idiot I've been."

There was a pause as what Dash was saying sanknin. This was an apology. An honest-to-goodness apology. He actually felt bad about what he'd done. I almost... I almost didn't know what to say. But...

"What are you talking about?" I grinned, "Of course you're my friend."

Dash looked up in disbelief, "Really?"

"Yeah," I consoled, "Just because you weren't into it for a while doesn't mean we can't be buddies now. I mean, hey," Inleaned in for a secretive effect, "Half my ghost allies were my worst enemy for a while, so I've got some practice. "

Dash laughed, "Wow. You're really okay with it."

I smiled, "All the way."

"Man," Dash breathed, amazed, "I knew you were a good guy, but this... You're like, THE good guy. You _literally _can do no wrong."

"Whoah there, not quite," I waved him down, "I've got my fair share of evil alternate future selves. I do wrong, like, all the time."

"Oh yeah? Name one time," Dash challenged.

"Okay, well..." I thought, "Last month, I used my ghost powers to sneak into the girl's locker room."

Dash burstnout laughing, "Evil selves my foot. If you think that's doing wrong, you should take a step into my life, bro."

I laughed, too, and me and Dash had time to exchange numbers before Sam gave up on respecting our privacy and dragged me away, literally.

"Only you, Danny," Tucker chuckled, "Only you would get in a fight with a guy then check to see if he's okay."

"He looked hurt!" I cried in my defense, pulling outnof Sam's grasp and willingly walking with them.

Sam sighed, "I told you this would be the worst one."

I spotted Dash heading into his class, and I waved to him, "That's where you're wrong, Sam."

"Oh?" she wondered, "Really?"

"Yeah," I confirmed.

Dash saw my gesture and waved back, more eager than I'd seen him in years.

"This was the best one."


End file.
